


Dr. Reid and Mr. Renton

by Tifer14



Category: Criminal Minds, Trainspotting (1996)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tifer14/pseuds/Tifer14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renton jumped on the first plane he could get out of London and ended up in Washington DC where he meets Spencer Reid. Together they deal with the needle and the damage done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Reid and Mr. Renton

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so time wise let's imagine that Trainspotting takes place in 2006/7, around the time of Reid's addiction to Dilaudid. 
> 
> I don't own Criminal Minds and I don't own Trainspotting but I can claim a bit of ownership of Dave the Drug Dealer, what a lucky girl I am! :P

                Renton bought a few much needed things for his flight, including a couple of baggies of smack, and then headed to the airport. Good thing he hadn’t sold his passport. He bought the first tickets that he could and shot up in the bathroom before boarding his flight to Washington D.C. The flight passed in a pleasant daze and he remembered a movie with a squirrel that kept chasing a nut all over a lot of snow. Poor little bugger just couldn’t catch a break. He’d be lying to say that he wasn’t sweating bullets as he went through passport control with all that money in his bag but apparently it was his lucky day. That or the security just couldn’t be fucked. He changed a couple of thousand pounds into dollars and got a cab to take him to the shittiest motel that there was. The driver gave him an odd look when he said that but shrugged and drove off when Renton shoved $50 dollars into his hand.

                The place they pulled up outside really was a shithole. It made some of the places he’d dossed down in back home look like the bloody Ritz but Renton figured that this was a place where he could score and he really needed something right now. He booked a room but then just sat down in the parking lot feeling a little bit scared. There was a man sitting in a dirty, beige car with his baseball cap pulled down. He could’ve been waiting for someone but he wasn’t. It was one of those things: a sixth sense that junkies and dealers have for each other. Renton tried to brush the dust off his jeans and pull down his T-shirt, which barely covered his navel, before slinking over to the car.

                “What can I do for you?”The man in the car placed a greasy burger on the passenger seat and wiped his hands on his stained white undershirt.

                “Got any smack?” Renton asked. The man stared at him blankly.

                “You’re not from around here, are you? But my, you are pretty.”

                Renton shifted from one foot to the other and shoved his hands deeper into his jeans’ pockets. Unfortunately, this pulled his trousers further down his hips. The man’s tongue darted out over his flabby lips and he almost growled at Renton. “Ah just want some heroin. I’ve got money.”

                “That’s a pity. I’d be willing to barter with you but, of course, that would be bad for business,” the man said with a leer. He reached down to pull something from his pocket and passed it to Renton whispering the price. Renton nodded and pulled a couple of notes from his pocket. The man grabbed his hand and pulled the skinny Scot down towards the car window. Renton could smell booze, vomit and bacon grease on the man’s breath, “If you hang around, you come back and see old Davey. I’ll get you whatever you need and don’t you worry you’re pretty little ass about money.” Renton pulled back sharply but nodded.

                “Have you got needles?” He asked, suddenly realising that he didn’t have anything to shoot up or cook with. There was a small cough from behind him and Renton glanced up into tired looking hazel eyes. The man in front of him looked like such a geek with his button up shirt and sweater vest but Renton could see from the way his fingers were curling around his elbow that he was in just as much need as he was. The man’s hair hung lank around his face and when he attempted a small smile at Renton, it looked like his lips were going to crack.

                “I’ve got everything we need,” the man spoke so softly that Renton had to lean in towards him, “if we can use your room.”

                Renton nodded and held out his hand with a big smile, “Ah’m Mark but everyone calls me Renton.”

                “Spencer Reid,” the young man replied with a tired smile and waved awkwardly, avoiding Renton’s hand. “I’ll just make my purchases if you can wait.” The sleazy, fat man greeted Spencer warmly and reached out to cup the geek’s balls which made Renton feel slightly nauseous but that could just be because he really needed a fix. Once Spencer was finished he spun on his heel and headed directly for Renton’s room. Mark thought about asking how he knew where to go but he didn’t. Once they were through the door, Spencer opened his satchel and pulled out a length of rubber tubing, some candles, a silver spoon and a fresh hypodermic needle. He squatted on the floor and started cooking up while Renton removed his belt.

                Spencer mumbled to himself as Renton paced the floor anxiously. Once the syringe was prepared, Spencer held it out to him and Renton eagerly strapped his belt around his bicep and looked for the vein. Fucking Mary Mother of Christ, that was some good smack. He fell back onto the bed and felt the needle being pulled from his arm. Spencer lay down next to him with the re-filled syringe and pulled on the rubber tubing he’d knotted around his bicep. Renton watched him lazily. He really was very pretty, almost like a girl. He thought of that little school girl he’d left behind in Edinburgh and then he thought of nothing as Spencer fell beside him, the needle dangling forgotten out of his arm.

                It was cold and dark when Renton was able to roll himself over. Spencer had draped an arm across his hips and moaned softly when he felt the other man move. Stumbling towards the bathroom, Renton took a long hard piss and then splashed some cold water on his face. He lay back down on the bed and Spencer pulled him closer into a messy kiss.

                “Fuck man, ah don’t even know you,” Renton pushed at the other man and added as an afterthought, “and ah’m no gay.”

                “Sorry,” Spencer mumbled. Both men lay there in silence for a long time. “So you’re Scottish?” Spencer asked suddenly.

                “Aye,” Renton answered warily.

                “Just visiting?”

                “Don’t know.”

                “Running away?”

                “Maybe. What the fuck do you care?”

                “Where are you staying?”

                “Here, for now.”

                “Come stay with me. I’ve got an apartment.”

                “What so you can bugger me?”

                Spencer laughed softly, “I’m a junkie. I honestly don’t think I can keep it up long enough to fuck you and anyway you’re not my type.”

                “That didn’t stop you from kissing me about five minutes ago.” Spencer didn’t reply to that. Renton thought it over for a while. His brain was still all foggy but it seemed to make sense to go home with Spencer and he didn’t really want to be all alone in a strange city. “Alright. I’ll go hame with you but keep your hands to yerself.” Spencer nodded, looking up at the ceiling.

                “Dave should still be here. We’ll pick up a couple more baggies and then we can go.” Renton nodded and followed the young man out of the motel room.

                Spencer had managed to keep it together for almost a year after the Hankel thing. Dilaudid blurred his world but it didn’t totally incapacitate him. However, it wasn’t enough. The memories would filter through the haze and that’s when Spencer moved to heroin. It was cheaper and easier to get. He needed it. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t chosen to be a junkie. It was forced on him and he had been too weak to fight it. Still, he managed to keep going to work until Renton moved in with him. It felt so good to have someone to share it all with. Finally, there was someone who understood that smack, as he called it, wasn’t something you chose. It was something you needed. Renton had a speech about choosing life or not choosing life. It involved televisions and getting a job. These were apparently bad things. He’d freaked out a little when Spencer had mentioned that he worked for the FBI but he’d got over it pretty quickly. It was three days since they’d left the apartment. Davey had made a couple of home deliveries because they were his “pretty boys” but they’d managed to get the heroin without getting raped. They’d giggled hysterically sitting on the floor with their backs to the door once the disgusting lecher had left.

                They were sitting on the sofa with everything laid out in front of them while Renton swigged from a bottle of cheap vodka. Spencer had gagged when he’d tried it. Straight vodka was pretty disgusting. They were both pretty disgusting right now. Spencer was wearing a stained blue FBI T-shirt and his boxers while Renton was bare-chested and had his jeans unbuttoned showing dirty underpants. Still, Spencer thought, if he could get off heroin long enough to get horny he would definitely try another pass at the sexy Scot next to him. There was an aggressive knock at the door and Renton nearly jumped out his skin. The vodka sloshed down his stomach and chest. Spencer leaned over and started licking it off Renton’s prominent ribs.

                “Get away from me, you fag,” Renton grumbled swatting at him but he was smiling, laughing and he didn’t try to move away. “There’s someone at your door, genius.” He didn’t quite believe that Spencer was as smart as he’d said but it didn’t really matter. He could cook and that was all that was really important. The harsh knocking sounded again but Reid just lay back.

                “You get it,” he mumbled and grabbed at the vodka. If they were going to wait to shoot up then this shit would have to do.

                Renton pulled himself off the couch and stumbled towards the door. He flung it open and stared at a dark haired man with fiery eyes that seemed to blaze with hatred.

                “Spencer, there’s a suit at your door.” Renton shouted down the corridor. The man raised one eyebrow but made no movement to enter.

                Reid’s voice came clearly from the living room, “Is there someone in it?” he asked, clearly confused.

                “Aye.”

                “Does he have a gun?”

                Renton looked over the expensive suit and the man moved his jacket to show gun holster at his hip. Mark swallowed nervously. He wasn’t used to guns. “Aye.”

                “Is he pointing it at you?”

                “Naw.”

                “Let him in.” Renton moved slightly and motioned for the man to enter. He was pushed to the side as the suit barrelled down the corridor clearing heading for Reid’s voice. Renton closed the door and buttoned his trousers. He was feeling a bit under dressed. He entered the living room to see the suit staring down at Spencer who was looking a bit uncomfortable. Renton slipped onto the sofa and took another swig of vodka.

                “Should I go?” He whispered to Spencer, who shook his head.

                “This is my boss, Aaron Hotchner. Hotch, this is Mark Renton, my friend.”

                “Is he your type?” Renton asked with a smirk. Spencer hit him with hardly any force. Hotch still hadn’t said a single word since arriving at the apartment but he took in everything he saw. The stench of sweat was nauseating and it was clear that neither man had showered in days. Reid’s hair was lank and greasy and his eyes were glazed. The spark of intelligence was almost completely gone from them. The pain in his chest grew and surpassed the jealous beast that had risen when he saw a man in unbuttoned trousers answer his... subordinate’s door. Reid was nothing more than that to him. They hadn’t ever had the chance.

                “I guess we shouldn’t cook right now.” Renton’s voice trailed off as Reid glared at him. “Aw come on, Spence. You think he doesn’t know?”

                “I know, Reid.” These were the first words that Aaron had spoken and they fell like fists. Reid flinched. “You haven’t been at work in three days. You don’t answer your phone.”

                “I’ve been busy,” the young man answered nonchalantly, scratching at his scarred left elbow.

                “There’s fucking heroin on your coffee table.”

                “I’ll just take that.” Renton gracelessly picked up the baggy and stumbled into Reid’s bedroom.

                Hotch waited for the man to exit before turning to Reid who was anxiously looking at where the drugs had gone. He was about ready for another hit. He couldn’t face Raphael right now. But Hotch was on his knees in front of him, looking deeply into his eyes. “What the hell happened to you, Reid?”

                “You know what happened to me, Hotch,” Reid knew that he sounded hysterical but he didn’t really care. “You watched it all on the monitors and then you expected me to just get over it. You all abandoned me. How was I meant to be fine after that?”

                “This is your solution. Heroin? Are you sharing a needle with that junkie?”

“You have no right to judge me or him, Hotch.” Reid said quietly. It hurt to see Aaron look so disappointed in him but no one had helped him after Hankel.

As if in answer to his thoughts Hotch murmured, “Spencer, let me help you now.”

It was tempting but Spencer shook his head. He wasn’t ready to give this up. He wasn’t ready to face his memories. Hotch moved in closer and held Spencer’s face between his hands when the young man tried to look away.

“Please, Spencer.” There was so much pain in Hotch’s dark brown eyes, “I’ve got you on medical leave right now. I won’t let this ruin your career. We can get through this together.”

Reid knew that he’d regret it. He knew that it would be another thing that he would try and forget with the sweet bracken liquid later tonight but he didn’t care. He leaned forward and pressed his chapped lips to Hotch’s soft mouth. Hotch pulled back almost instantly. Reid tasted like pure alcohol and his breath stank.

Reid sobbed heavily, “See. You think I’m disgusting.”

“No, Spencer, never.” Hotch smoothed Reid’s lank hair and tried to brush the tears from his eyes. “I don’t think you’re disgusting. You just need help.”

Reid voice came low and even, despite his tears, “Get out, Hotch.” When Aaron made no movement, he raised his eyes and glared, “Get the fuck out of my apartment!” he screamed.

Aaron still hesitated but he rose to his feet and eventually Reid heard the door shut firmly. Renton snuck out the bedroom with a prepared needle. “Ah thought you might want this,” he said softly. Reid nodded resignedly and grabbed the rubber tubing from the table. As the drugs started flooding his system he leaned on Renton’s bare shoulder and allowed his hand to fall onto Renton’s crotch. The other man didn’t move but he spoke softly again, “We could give this up together, you know. Ah’ve done it before. We just need a lot of tinned soup, some wood to bar the door, and six buckets.”

Reid nodded slowly as his eyes slid shut. Somehow that seemed like a far more viable plan than whatever Hotch was going to suggest.


End file.
